


And Around Each Other We Go

by rareandviolentsnowflake



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Natasha Romanov Feels, Protective Steve Rogers, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-09 08:59:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17403947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rareandviolentsnowflake/pseuds/rareandviolentsnowflake
Summary: Well after the events of Infinity War. Theoretically, in this AU Steve and company get all the others back.The Avengers are back together, James (Bucky) has left Wakanda to try and resume a normal life in the states, Steve still has a beard, Natasha is thinking about her working life, Clint continues to be the group clown, Tony still has some hard feelings towards James, and James is still hard for Nat ;)





	1. The Elephant in the Room Only We Know About

“I thought you said you invited him.”  
Natasha looked at the billionaire with a blank expression, expertly pouring her mojito into a glass.  
Tony looked away and sipped his champagne silently.  
Steve sighed and leaned on the bar. “He did invite him. I guess he just decided not to show,” he shrugged.  
Natasha turned to put the shaker in the sink and sighed quietly to herself. If his best friend couldn’t get him to show, then she doubted she could.  
“Unless Tony said something to him after,” Steve accused.  
Tony turned dramatically in his seat. “Excuse me? I did no such thing,” he declared incredulously.  
Steve eyed him, still.  
“I’m serious,” Tony scoffed, “If I didn’t want him here, I would have just said so from the start.”  
Steve huffed out a breath and looked at his drink, swirling it gently.  
“I’m sorry he’s not here,” Tony said. He sounded genuine to Natasha.  
“Don’t worry about it. He’s probably caught up, like you said,” she assured Steve, but also assuring herself as well.  
Steve made a sound of uncertainty. “He’s just come back from Wakanda. What could there possibly be for him to do, other than see us?” he asked.  
Natasha shrugged. She looked out over the room, sipping her drink as she scanned the area. Tony did nicely with the remodelling of the common space of the Avengers compound in upstate New York. It held a certain air about it, the way it was comfortable and inviting and yet had easy access to a weapons cache, should the need arise. The theme was very much touched by a designer. If Tony was in charge of décor, it would be clad in art of Iron Man and vintage cars would be displayed and probably used as seating. No. Instead, it was an open planned living space, adorned with expensive paintings and modern furniture that was much to Natasha’s liking. The bar she was behind was carved from black marble and held top-shelf liquor. Next to the bar, the kitchen was made of the same marble, but held more nutritious options than alcohol, salted cashews and cheesy garlic bread. She liked that reinstating the Avengers was a cause to add on to their headquarters. There were several rooms added to the compound as well, for members who had priorities other than being an avenger and of course their friends from outer-space.  
She’d heard Steve ask Tony about adding a space for James should he come back from Wakanda. Tony grumbled and didn’t speak to Steve for a week, but added the room anyway, much to Steve delight and Natasha’s lone and silent appreciation. She hadn’t told any of her colleagues about her past with the Winter Soldier and he hadn’t mentioned it either. And it seemed that she would never have to, as he barely spent any time with any of them since his return outside of the odd mission and never used the room provided for him, no matter how many times Steve urged him to stay.  
She knew he remembered. He lied with ease, but she knew his eyes. They would betray him every time she caught his gaze, telling her about all the pain he felt, the memories of her, of them, Steve, HYDRA, the Red Room, Department-X. Everything that no one knew to ask. Or wanted to. Because no one wanted to know that pain. She knew what it was like; keeping her past bottled, stored away in a basement cellar, never to be opened.  
A crash brought her out of her thoughts. Clint was playing drums while Tony and Peter attempted the guitar. She smiled. Idiots.  
Steve had gone to chat with Bruce and Thor, chuckling at what seemed to be Thor’s re-enactment of someone stabbing him in the gut. Wanda sat quietly with Vision, playing games with Rhodes and Sam, who were grumbling at her for messing with their game of pool.  
She downed the rest of her drink and went to make another one as Maria walked into the room, receiving welcomes from the rest of the team.  
Natasha smiled at her when she headed over to the bar.  
“Feel like something strong, director?” she asked.  
Maria chuckled. “Sure. Whatever I need to get my mind off this whole year.”  
“I don’t blame you. We all feel the same,” she replied, measuring rum in a shot glass, “Nick made the job look easy.”  
“Hah, if only that was the height of my problems,” Maria laughed humourlessly. “What would help though, is you coming back.” Maria eyed Natasha pointedly.  
Natasha smiled, hiding her discontent for Maria’s request. “If I did, I would have to give up my bartending job, and you know how much I love it,” she returned playfully.  
“Well, let me know if you ever have free time. I could use your skills for some specific jobs,” she said in a low voice as Natasha poured two more mojitos.  
“Sure,” she replied, handing Maria her drink.



“So, this one can be lifted by anyone, right?”  
Clint jerked his chin in the direction of Thor’s axe that was leaning against the side of the sofa.  
“Well, you can try, if wish to perish at the moment you wield it,” Thor shrugged.  
Clint snorted. “Bullshit.”  
They were all gathered on the sofas now—those who were left—coffees in hand, quietly chatting about Thor’s new accessory, Steve’s war stories and Clint’s farm. Peter went home because his Aunt sweetly scolded him about school nights and Wanda retreated to her room, packing for another trip to Europe with Vision. Tony went home to Pepper and his home R&D factory.  
“Don’t do it, man,” Sam laughed as Clint hesitantly reached for the axe. The sharpshooter eventually withdrew his hand completely, mumbling about risks.  
“Anyway…” Steve resumed his story about his life before he got the serum and he caught the whooping cough.  
Everyone was engrossed in Steve recount of the forties that Natasha almost missed the door opening a crack, and a long-haired man clad in black slipped through, signalling to Maria, who also caught him lurking.  
Nat could have left him alone. But he missed the party and she was feeling petty.  
She swung her legs around, turning her body in his direction, eyeing the Winter Soldier playfully.  
“Hey there, Soldier. Thought you’d never make it,” she said, catching the attention of the rest of the room. She hadn’t caught him off-guard. He was tense, sure, but his expression told her that he expected her to announce his untimely arrival.  
James looked briefly over to Steve and gave him a tight smile that only lasted a second.  
Steve took that as an invitation to strike up a conversation with his oldest friend. “Hey Buck, where’ve you been?” He asked, motioning James to sit with the rest of the group.  
James stayed where he was.  
Yeah man, party ended a while ago,” Clint jumped in, adding, “but if you flash a pretty smile Nat’s way, I think she’ll be happy to fix you a drink.”  
Natasha lifted herself out of her seat, heading over to the bar, pulling James with her. “I would gladly make you a drink,” she announced, “you don’t even have to smile.”  
James huffed a slight chuckle and followed her.  
Maria picked up her glass and got out of her place next to Steve. “I need a refill.”  
The three of them gathered at the bar, James and Maria sat on the barstools as Natasha planted herself opposite them.  
“So, what are you drinking?” Natasha asked.  
James didn’t have a chance to answer before Natasha pulled out a shot glass and poured vodka all the way to the brim. He carefully brought it to his lips and let it slide down his throat, igniting a satisfying burn in his chest.  
“Did you enjoy your trip?” Maria turned to him, leaning in for a moment to hide the flash drive James slid over to her.  
“It was nice. Took longer than I thought.”  
Maria eyed him curiously. “I wasn’t expecting a delay.”  
“I wasn’t expecting explosives.” James kept his gaze forward and unwavering.  
Natasha leaned on the bar listening to the conversation, staring at the flash drive sitting innocently by Maria’s arm.  
“So, your offer earlier,” Natasha said in a hushed tone, “James has already taken it.” It wasn’t entirely a statement, but she wanted Maria to think she had figured it out before her suspicions were confirmed.  
“Yes.”  
“So, what do you need me for?”  
Maria sighed. “I need an extra agent. I run these ops under S.H.I.E.L.D’s radar, been doing them since I started S.H.I.E.L.D up again. Since they aren’t bringing in any information that’s useful for the U.S, it’s for a… personal collection of mine should certain Russian or other similar issues arise. But Barnes can’t do all of them himself, so I wanted to bring in someone with similar training.”  
The conversation stopped when Steve and Thor headed over to them.  
“You missed quite the evening, friend. Clint almost poked his own eye out trying to do a trick with his percussion sticks,” Thor bellowed, slapping a hand on James’ right shoulder.  
“Sorry to miss it,” James mumbled in response, fiddling with his glass.  
“Why are you so late? I thought you went to get a haircut but…” Steve gestured to James’ hair, a playful glint in his eye.  
James decided to amuse him. “Well, I can’t have you one-up my caveman look. Still tired of the babyface, Rogers?”  
Steve grinned.  
“Perhaps you can tell us some stories too!” Thor said loudly, “There must be some tales of battle about a seasoned warrior such as yourself.”  
James stilled in his seat. He crushed the shot glass in his hand. His mind began reeling, and panic settled in.  
For a moment.  
Only a moment.  
Steve looked between the metal hand curled into a fist and his best friend, who was looking about ready to commit a crime. He wasn’t sure if a Wakandan-made vibranium arm could knock down the God of Thunder, but he didn’t really want to find out right now.  
James merely cleared his throat softly and brushed the shattered glass off his hand. “Maybe some other time,” he muttered.  
Natasha watched with disguised concern as James got out of his seat and walked back the way he came in.  
“I—,” Thor began.  
“It’s okay. Probably just some bad memories,” Steve said as he got up to follow James out.  
Natasha cast her eyes down at the broken glass. 



“Bucky! Wait, please,” Steve called out.  
James continued to mount his motorcycle, sighing to himself. He was getting a headache.  
“Buck, please, he didn’t mean to—.”  
“I know, Steve it’s fine I just—I had a shitty day, okay?”  
Steve’s brows furrowed. “I keep asking you where you’ve been all day and you won’t say anything. How am I supposed to know what you’re thinking if you won’t tell me?”  
James leaned on the handlebar and rubbed his temples. “It’s not important. Just—enjoy the rest of the night with your friends, Steve.”  
Steve stepped in closer. “You are my friend Bucky. I want to know if you’re okay.”  
“I’m good, Steve.”  
“I don’t believe you.”  
“Didn’t think so,” James sighed.  
“Then why say it?”  
“Was hoping you’d just leave it alone.” He lifted his head to look at the sky.  
Steve shuffled his feet. “Look—you have a headache and you’ve had a bad day. Just stay here for a night,” Steve attempted to persuade him. “There’s a room for you, you’re not intruding. Just—just stay.”  
James looked through the window into the living area—Thor was rubbing his forehead and Natasha seemed to be trying to console him? Calm him? He wasn’t sure—he had never spoken with the Asgardian. Clint was looking at them with his forehead creased and Sam just looked completely uninterested in whatever was going on.  
James sighed, looking back up at the sky. Maybe he could sneak past them and shut himself in a room until morning. He knew it wouldn’t work, though, Natasha would catch him immediately and Steve would walk him through the place like an escort and give him a tour—as if he hadn’t cased it already.  
“Boys.”  
The two soldiers whipped their heads around to see Natasha standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. “If you aren’t inside in two minutes, neither of you get lick of hot chocolate,” she scolded, spinning around to head back inside.  
James snorted. He lifted himself off his bike and trudged over to the door again.  
“Wait, you’ll go back in for Nat’s hot chocolate but not for your health and safety?” Steve accused as he followed closely behind.


	2. Nightcap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and James reminisce about the old days over a cup of coffee before getting a little steamy

The television cast a bluish-grey hue through the room. James was slouched comfortably on the sofa of the living area where all the residents had been an hour ago. Since then, they had all retreated to their rooms. Probably all asleep.   
James cast a quick glance over to the hallway where he heard a creak in the floor. Natasha stood silently for a moment, looking like a startled cat. Then she made her way to the kitchen to turn on the kettle.  
He thought back to their encounter at the bar before he was about to leave. Would she take the assignment from Hill? Maybe. Would he see her more? Doubtful. These under-the-radar jobs were all over the place and they wouldn’t be a team. Not like they once were.  
She had walked back to where James was, arms crossed.  
“Was there something you wanted?” He asked her in a low voice, as if someone was able to hear them.  
“Actually, I was going to ask you that.”  
He furrowed his brow. “I was here first. If I wanted something from you, I would have gone to find you.” He didn’t mean to sound rude. It seemed that had been his default lately.  
“From the kitchen,” she clarified, “I was going to ask if you wanted something from the kitchen.”  
He felt like quite the idiot. “Oh.”  
“Yeah.” Natasha waited a moment. “So?”  
“Um, Irish coffee?” he asked, looking at her with hopeful puppy eyes. Natasha chuckled quietly and retreated to the kitchen. He followed her.   
“Do you typically drink liquor this early in the morning?”  
“Morning?” James searched for the clock. Once he found it, he saw ‘2:30am’ in grey-blue light. “Hm. Didn’t notice.”  
The kettle pinged. Natasha moved to grab mugs and instant brew coffee. “Do you always lose track of time you spend awake?”  
James eyed her while she made his coffee. He saw her motive, but he was curious to see how much he could lie to her, wanted to test her knowledge of him. A testament of how much they had drifted.   
“Not as much as I used to,” he lied. He was losing the same amount of time as he always has.  
“So, you just decide not to sleep, then?”  
“I do sleep. I nap on the way to wherever Hill sends me,” he lied again.  
Natasha snorts. “Napping isn’t sleeping. If it was, they wouldn’t have different names.” She slid his mug over to him. he tilted it slightly to look inside. Black, no sugar. She still knew him well enough to make his coffee right. Almost.  
“You forgot the whiskey,” he remarked.  
She shook her head. “Yes. Purposefully,” she stated simply.  
Mugs in hand she pulled him back to the couch, where they sat silently, watching a documentary about the Cold War. Ironic, he thought. He wondered if she was thinking about it too. He didn’t ask.  
“How much of this do you think they got right?” Natasha’s whisper cut through the air.  
“Hm. About as much as they’re allowed to have right,” he whispered back.  
Natasha sighed. “All this time, and they still can’t let the truth out.”  
“I guess the same goes for me,” James mutters.   
“For us.” Natasha caught his eyes from under her lashes. “Do you remember the truth?”  
He smiled gently. “I would never forget you, Natalia.”  
She smiled back.  
He stared at her for a moment, unsure of what to do. She usually prompted him, gave him a nudge in the direction she wanted them to go. He never really got the chance to make his own choices; even now, the job he has, the life he lives, all because he feels he owes the world for all the bad things.   
He decided himself this time, he wanted to kiss her. She wasn’t surprised. He guessed that she wanted to as well. Her lips were warm, inviting. They melted him down to his core, until he was all mush. It’s just what she did to him.   
His hands moved at their own accord, sliding around her waist, pulling her in closer. She mimicked his movements, drawing her hands around him, finally settling herself on top of him, capturing James between her legs. She broke the kiss for a moment only to reattach her lips to his neck, licking and sucking her way down.   
With his head was tilted back and eyes closed, James continued his ministrations, gripping her ass in his hands, careful not to use too much pressure on his left. He moved his hands up to the waistband of her pyjama shorts, thumbing at the edge. She pulled back from his neck that was now littered with bitemarks and lifted herself up slightly. He tugged down her shorts and panties, enough to finally get where she wanted him—and frankly, where he wanted too. Pulling her mouth down to his once more, she gasped quietly as James’ fingers brushed against her. He could feel how wet she was with his right hand, taking that as encouragement. Focusing on her clit, he moved his thumb in circles, kissing her slowly and passionately. There was no rush in this moment of theirs. No urgency or secrecy, so long as no one showed up.   
Her breathing picked up, became ragged as he moved his hand faster, more deliberately. Natasha’s hands found their way to James’ belt. Unbuckling it, she slipped one hand inside, gently wrapping it around his cock. He had to choke off a moan when she started working him. Her other hand pushed his shirt up, feeling his chest, remembering it. She pumped her hand faster, matching his speed, almost taunting him to go faster and push her over the edge. He took the challenge, sending them both into a mess of moans and hands grabbing each other, trying to pull the other impossibly close. He closed his eyes and listened to Natasha let out the most beautiful of sounds. Her hips rolled into him, as he let his fingers slip inside her, curling up and pushing her closer to her orgasm. She bit into his lip, trying to delay it, feel him for as long as she could.   
Natasha pumped her hand faster, slightly tightening her grip on him.   
James’ hips jolted off the couch unexpectedly. His metal hand gripped the armrest so hard he could hear the framing start to splinter. He groaned loudly into her mouth and he felt her lips form a smile against his. She was enjoying this. She always loved having this effect on him, making him lose control in the best of ways.   
In the ways that she did, he could do the same; he could make her lose her cool, spark an intense fire in her core, and he used it to his advantage. In his final efforts to make her come, he latched his mouth onto her nipple, gently using his teeth to nibble at it and his fingers curled inside her just the way she liked, sending waves of pleasure through her whole body. She fell apart into a moaning mess, legs shaking, her forehead covered in a light sheen of sweat pressed into his shoulder. He slid his left arm around her waist, holding her steady as her juices coated his fingers and the rest of his hand.   
As Natasha neared the end of her recovery, she slid off his lap onto her knees. Keeping her gaze on him, her tongue licked up his shaft slowly. James groaned and pulled her hair back, watching as his cock slid nicely into her mouth. She sucked and licked until his hips lifted off the sofa and continued her work for her. His thrusts were frantic and he no longer tried to control the sounds coming out of him. Natasha gripped his thighs as he came down her throat, taking every drop from him that she could get. He released his grip on her hair and she pulled herself back up onto his lap. He looked her in the eyes, looking for some kind of indication of what he should do next. Instead, Natasha leaned into him, and kissed him. he pulled back and lifted the hand he used to pleasure her to his lips and sucked his fingers clean. She watched him and smiled lazily, obviously tired from their activities.   
Finally, Natasha spoke, “We should, uh, go somewhere else.”  
“Okay,” James sighed. He stood up with her still in his arms. Bending over just to pick up her shorts and panties from the floor, he made his way to the elevator with a giggling Natasha winding her arms around his neck.  
The doors opened and he stepped inside. Natasha wriggled out of his grasp and snatched her shorts from him. “Are you gonna…” she jutted her chin towards his pants as she put herself back together.   
“Oh.” James did up his jeans again, grinning to himself, thinking about literally three minutes ago. “Which floor?”   
“Six,” Natasha replied.   
He hit the button for six and leant against the railing. Natasha continued brushing down her clothes, trying to straighten them out, when the elevator dinged and the doors opened, revealing a sleepy Steve Rogers with a glass in his hand.  
Startled slightly, he eyed the two of them. “Uh, hey guys.”  
James made an awkward and half-hearted wave in Steve’s direction.   
Natasha made the effort to speak. “I’m just headed to bed. Can’t sleep?”  
“Woke up and needed a glass of water.” Steve shrugged and gestured in James’ direction. “What about you?”  
“I found him slumming it on the couch,” Natasha answered.  
James gave her a look.   
“I, uh, think I’m just gonna head out.” James hit the button for ground and shoved his hands in his pockets.   
Natasha turned back to him. “You sure? Night’s young.”  
He snorted. “It’s, like, 4am. Goodnight, ‘Tasha.”  
“Hm, goodnight.” She smiled gently and retreated to her rooms.  
Steve stepped into the elevator. “Why head out? Did you get a chance to sleep in your room?”  
“I wouldn’t say it’s ¬mine.”  
“Tony put it there for you. It’s yours,” Steve retorted.  
James muttered, “After a passive-aggressive conversation with you.”  
Steve made an aggravated sound. “Christ, whatever. Just go back to wherever you were.”  
He wanted to say something. He didn’t get much of a chance. Steve stepped off the elevator before the doors hand completely opened, making a beeline for the kitchen.  
James sighed, stepping off and headed to the front door for the last time for a while, catching sight of the couch and the coffee mug he and Natasha had left there not too long ago. Ten minutes ago, he was so much happier.

**Author's Note:**

> Tracks While Writing:
> 
> Billie Eilish Album  
> My "five hours til dawn" playlist on Spotify


End file.
